


Words in Empty Spaces

by vorkosigan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AND COMES BACK, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Infinity Gauntlet, M/M, Remix, Sappy, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve is on Titan, Temporary Character Death, Tony Stark Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-01 21:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17874764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vorkosigan/pseuds/vorkosigan
Summary: When Ebony Maw's ship lands in New York, Tony finally calls Steve, and Steve comes with him to Titan.





	Words in Empty Spaces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sadisticsparkle (sadisticsparkle)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadisticsparkle/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Red](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16960938) by [Sadisticsparkle (sadisticsparkle)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadisticsparkle/pseuds/Sadisticsparkle). 
  * In response to a prompt by [Sadisticsparkle (sadisticsparkle)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadisticsparkle/pseuds/Sadisticsparkle) in the [2019_Cap_Ironman_Remix_Madness](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/2019_Cap_Ironman_Remix_Madness) collection. 



> This work is a part of Cap/Ironman Remix Madness 2019.
> 
> I was looking for something to remix, and since I decided to do this at the last minute, I was looking for something short. I _loved_ Red, but like a silly person I am, I didn't look at the archive warnings, so I found myself shocked :D And then I found myself inspired. I'm sorry for changing the ending - I hope that's allowed by remix rules?
> 
> Archive Warnings: I wasn't sure if I was supposed to check the 'major character death' field if it's only a temporary death, so I picked 'chose not to use warnings'. But there's just what I said in the tags and nothing more. Tony dies, and then that gets reversed.
> 
> My introductory notes are longer than my fic :/

Steve imagined that phone call differently. The phone would ring, and he would answer it. _Hey, Tony, how are you?_ No, not like that, that's too laid-back. _Tony, are you all right?_ That's more realistic. Tony wouldn't call unless something went wrong, would he? Or perhaps Steve might call. _Hey, Tony, it's me._ No, that's stupid, of course it's him. Who the hell else would it be, on that phone? _Tony, I just wanted to see how you're doing._ Not that Tony would answer, anyway.

 

All right, let's be honest. No matter which one of them called, no matter when or why, all Steve would be able to say would be: _Tony._ Just that. Just the one word, just his name. Steve longs to say it, longs to have _him_ hear it from Steve's lips. As if that would make Tony understand. As if it would make Tony care to try...

 

 _Tony._ Steve imagines he can convey everything he thinks, he feels, with that one word. He's only fooling himself, of course, but that's all he got.

 

The way it actually happens is the way things always happen with the Avengers: equal parts drama, disaster and ridiculous timing. Steve is sliding around a street corner at a dead run when he feels the vibrations in his back pocket.

 

"I see it!" he yells into the phone in order to be heard over the din. No intro is needed. The masonry is raining down, and everyone is running in the opposite direction from Steve. Of course he knows why Tony is calling.

 

Pause on Tony's side is minuscule, to his credit. "You're in New York," he breathes, but that's all of the surprise he allows himself to express. The very next second he's all business. "Where?"

 

"Rose Hill."

 

"Oh, goody. Can you get to The NoMad Hotel? There's a rooftop restaurant."

 

"Give me a few minutes," Steve says, swallowing ground in big leaps.

 

He doesn't need to ask why. Tony doesn't need to say _I'm picking you up._ They've always worked together well. They've always understood each other practically without words, as long as it was about work and absolutely nothing else. On the field, they are a well-oiled machine. Outside of it, no mechanic in the world can fix them, apparently. There is no blueprint on this Earth that would help them understand each other better.

 

Well, of course it would take a hostile alien ship landing in Greenwich Village for Tony to call. How that smarts. But, oh, how good it feels that Tony calls Steve, of all people, and how right everything is when the gauntlet clasps his hand and pulls Steve up from the rooftop, into the air, ever higher. It's as if no time has passed at all.

 

***

 

On the ship, Tony banters with Strange. He banters with little Peter. He almost banters with the bad guy.

 

He doesn't say two words to Steve.

 

Well, fine, it's not exactly like that, but that's how it seems to Steve. They brief each other, very efficiently. It's all business, business, business. The only remotely personal remark of Tony's is "The beard's new." Steve wishes he can think of something better to say than "Humpf".

 

Still, as soon as they need to actually formulate the plan, it's like a well-rehearsed performance. They don't talk over each other. Their remarks flow together seamlessly, and that Star-Lord guy just stares at them and says: "Dude. Did you two practice that on the way here?"

 

They didn't. They barely spoke. _What the hell were you doing in New York_ , Steve wants Tony to ask. He can practically feel the question in Tony's eyes. And yet Tony says noting, and Steve says nothing, and the silence reigns once more.

 

Yet, when Tony isn't looking, Steve drinks in his face – it looks a little older, a little more tired. Dearer than ever. He doesn't allow himself to stare, not too much, otherwise Tony might see, and know. And when he isn't quite looking, Steve has this vague impression that Tony's eyes are following him in turn, studying him, trying to decipher, to parse, to put together and pull apart, discern what's inside. He says nothing about it. Tony doesn't either.

 

***

 

_Protect the Time Stone. Take off Thanos’ gauntlet. Will the Stones away._

 

It's warm on Titan, and it takes only minutes for your nose and eyes and mouth to dry out. It's too dry for you to even sweat. It's as if the place is sucking every drop of moisture out of you.

 

The battle fills Steve's mind the way the sand fills every crease of his suit. It's liberating to just be fighting once more, to know which side is right and which is wrong, to have a clear, stark dividing line between the good and the bad. It's also good to put his muscles to use, strain them to the full capacity once more, to be pushed to the limit and _push back._

 

It's good to have Tony by his side. Suddenly, there is no resounding emptiness inside him, no hollow echo; a part of him had been torn out, and now it's back, and it feels so right that it hurts.

 

His heart in his throat, Steve watches Tony fly, move like in a ballet.

 

He knows he should tell Tony what he feels. It will probably deepen the rift between them, but Steve is done with secrets. And maybe, just maybe, it would mean something to Tony. Steve is not blind. He can see how carefully Tony is protecting Steve's flank, he can hear the worry in Tony's voice as he asks: _Cap, you doing all right?_ Steve doesn't delude himself that he could ever have what he wants, with Tony; it's a dead hope now, after everything. But perhaps a closure. Maybe they could learn to be at peace with each other. And still... hope might be dead, but it isn't in Steve's nature to give in easily. So, if he actually made an effort, and if Tony... No.

 

In the end, Steve doesn't know what to think, he keeps going in circles. What he knows is, he has to talk to Tony. See what follows from there.

 

And then Thor arrives with the new weapon, and suddenly it's the three of them, together again, and years fall away, and the dance of the battle is familiar and well practiced; it's like music. It works. They work. At least in this moment in time, they are like one.

 

Steve allows himself to discover a glint of happiness, somewhere inside. He knows he'll be punished for that.

 

***

 

_Protect the Time Stone. Take off Thanos’ gauntlet. Will the Stones away._

 

Thanos stabs Tony with a piece of Tony's own armor while Steve is right there, fighting next to him, with Thor on his other side. For a moment the time stops, freezes. That moment is eternally long in Steve's mind, stretched to infinity; it's like he's forever falling into a black hole. In his mind, burned forever, that instant that Tony gets what _must_ be a mortal wound, what _can't_ be a mortal wound. And then Thanos reaches out to touch Tony with his ugly big hand, and Steve is able to move again. All of his desperation and pain and stubborn refusal to give in come together, congeal into that one moment. Steve is between them, now, and he's pushing back, _back_ , dammit. Then Thor fires away, and Spidey and Star-Lord attack from the back, and the fight is suddenly moving to the other side of the field.

 

_Protect the Time Stone..._

 

But for Steve, Time doesn't exist any more. Just that one moment, and he, on his knees by Tony's side, and the meaningless words.

 

"You'll be all right. We'll win. We'll be home soon. You'll be all right..."

 

It's like a time loop. He isn't sure if he's repeating these words, again and again, or not. He looks up. He needs to go and fight, he needs to... _Protect the Time Stone..._

 

There are some things you can do if you try hard enough, if you are brave and stubborn and unwilling to give up, and he's done a lion's share over the years; and then there are some things that are undoable. He can't leave Tony's side. There's nothing more to it. He can't.

 

"Steve," Tony says, his voice so week already. Is it trembling with pain or... – yes, with urgency, too. Steve looks into his eyes, trying not to think that this might be the last time, because – it's inconceivable. Steve refuses that possibility completely. At the very least, Steve will stay here forever, holding Tony in his arms, and time will run no longer.

 

"Steve," Tony says again, willing him, forcing him to focus. His strength is gushing out, his voice weakening. "I need to tell you. I never told you."

 

Maybe it's because they are on a field of battle – it's their magical place, after all, a place where they understand each other – or maybe it's because he's seen the way Tony looks at him, always focused on Steve, even when he doesn't want to be, just like Steve is focused on Tony whenever Tony is there, his world revolving around Tony. Maybe that's why, or maybe it's just a flash of intuition, but suddenly Steve is certain of something he's suspected all along.

 

"I know," he whispers. "I always knew." In any other circumstances, this might have been a happy moment.

 

But Tony sighs a little sigh, and at first, naively, Steve thinks it's relief.

 

Steve doesn't even get to say _me too._ The moment is there and gone. And then there is no reason to look into Tony's eyes any longer. There's nothing there now.

 

Steve goes off to die. He may be telling himself it's something else entirely, but he hurls himself into the fray, uncaring; and he knows well what he's doing.

 

Then something shifts inside him, something snaps, and he is suddenly fighting to win.

 

 _Take off Thanos' gauntlet._ That was the plan, wasn't it? Steve bares his teeth.

 

***

 

_Take off Thanos’ gauntlet. Will the Stones away._

Steve has got the gauntlet, and the world stops. It keeps stopping for him a lot, lately. It barely even manages to move, honestly; it's got no reason to, now.

 

The gauntlet works just like Strange speculated it would, on the way here. It's sapping Steve's strength away, sucking all the will out of him. It's a vortex, trying to pull him apart. If not for the serum, he isn't sure he'd be able to withstand it even for a second. Even as it is, his time is exceedingly short.

 

 _Will the stones away..._ That's what he's supposed to do. He focuses his will, his mind and heart. And instead, he thinks the only thought he has left, the only thought that's still possible for him: _Tony lives. Tony lives and Tony is all right._

 

Well, he's always had a bit of tunnel vision when it comes to the people he loves dearly.

 

As the gauntlet slides from his unfeeling hand, Steve is semi-aware of the incredulous stares of his comrades. "What the hell, man?" Star Lord is yelling (as if he wouldn't have done exactly the same, for his girl). Even Thanos is gaping at him, from where he is being held on the ground, where little Peter and Thor managed to overpower him for a second.

 

 _I've betrayed them,_ Steve thinks, but something red is flying towards him from the other side of the field, and to hell with everything; he has no regrets.

 

He is vaguely aware of Thanos lumbering to his feet, tossing Steve's friends to the side, but then a blue streak of a woman is grabbing the gauntlet and Star Lord is yelling: "She's all right! Go, Nebula, go!"

 

She pulls it on, and then there is the nauseous shifting in the fabric of reality again. Thanos is no more and the gauntlet is no more, but all Steve has eyes for is Tony, who lands next to him and lets the nanities of his helmet disappear.

 

"Cap? What in the name of hell did you just do?" Tony demands. He sounds bewildered and if it were somebody else, Steve would say weepy. The corners of his eyes are smiling, however, even though his mouth is set in a tight line.

 

Steve tries to struggle up from his knees and sags to the ground instead. He doesn't remember ever feeling quite this week ever since the serum.

 

"Shit, Steve, you okay?" Tony grabs him and pulls him up, props him up, gazes into his face. Steve wants to stay like that. Another eternal moment, but this one of his own choosing...

 

"I'm just tired," he whispers, because he doesn't have the strength to speak up. He's in Tony's arms, and Tony's arms are the most beautiful place in all the galaxies, and if that morning someone told him he'd end up in Tony's arms, even for a moment, Steve would have told them they were crazy.

 

"Did you just...?" Tony begins, and shakes his head.

 

Steve nods.

 

"But you..." Tony starts again.

 

Steve shrugs defiantly, as much as he's able too. He's not going to defend his choices.

 

Tony rests his temple against the top of Steve's head, just for a moment, and to Steve it's worth a million words.

 

"Me too," Steve manages to say. "I didn't get to tell you. When you were..."

 

_...dying..._

 

That memory is still eating Steve from the inside, hollowing him out like a diligent woodworm, even though Tony is right there. It will take time to heal.

 

 _I love you too,_ he wants to say, because he's promised himself he'd finally get his feelings into words, but he can't get them out. A lame _me too_ is the best he can manage.

 

But of course Tony knows what he's talking about. How could he not?

 

"I _know_ ," Tony says with some ferocity. " _Now_ I know, you crazy son of a bitch." And there is a bit of laughter in his voice, as well as traces of unshed tears. Then he leans down and kisses Steve on the cheek, lightly.

 

That's the last thing Steve is aware of for quite some time.

 

***

 

When Steve finally comes to, his first thought is: _Protect the Time Stone. Take off Thanos’ gauntlet..._

 

Then he realizes he's on a space ship – a different one this time. The memories surge back like a rock slide.

 

He finds Tony on the gallery overlooking what is probably a cargo bay. He's watching little Peter and Thor, who are doing some soccer drills, of all things (Wherever did they get a ball?).

 

He puts a hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony doesn't turn around. There is a second of unbelievably long agony, that can, as far as Steve is concerned, be summed up as _what now?_ But then Tony covers Steve's hand with his own and squeezes. He turns his head then, eyebrows raised, and shakes it at Steve, as if to say _you're insane_ , as if to say _I can't believe what you did._

 

"We won," Steve says, still nearly unable to wrap his mind around it. _Not thanks to me._ He, defiantly enough, _still_ has no regrets.

 

"Yeah."

 

"Tony?" Finally, Steve is saying his name.

 

 _What you said back when you were..._ Steve might try to say, faltering at the last word, as if admitting it happened makes it more real

 

And: _When I was dying,_ Tony would supply; Tony being Tony, even that would sound perfectly dry. _A process you graciously reversed for me_.

 

Dying. Steve still can't wipe the horror of it from his mind's eye.

 

 _What you meant by it..._ Steve might try.

 

_Oh, you know very well what I meant by it, Rogers._

 

Even in his mind, Steve can't imagine them saying anything real to each other. Just an endless string of unfinished sentences that they, by some miracle, still understand. If he breathes wrong, the magic might disappear.

 

"I'm here," Tony says instead. Calm. Soothing. He still holds Steve's fingers in his hand, firmly, and to Steve it's an anchor. As long as they are physically linked, the magic of understanding lasts.

 

Steve opens his mouth to say what he's always longed to say, what he now came here to say. _I love you I love you I love you._ It's not easy, though. Maybe some other things need to be said first, between them. So he places a small kiss somewhere behind Tony's ear, because Tony is standing so close and _still_ holding Steve by the hand and leaning towards him with his whole body. "We'll need to talk at some point," Steve says reluctantly into Tony's hair.

 

Tony just rests the side of his head against Steve's and sighs. "I know," he says. "But shut up for now. Watch the game. It's over. We're going home."

 

 Home.


End file.
